#Long suffering for reals...

[jmd1027sd]

I really can't handle any more San Diego sports today...

[rocketbirdie]

lowkey funniest part of rebirth is when cloud dissociates BIG time while the costa del amor girls are making their pitch

[teex]

Nickel Boys (2024) dir. by RaMell Ross

Based on the Pulitzer Prize-winning novel by Colson Whitehead, "Nickel Boys" chronicles the powerful friendship between two young African-American men navigating the harrowing trials of reform school together in Florida.

[keferon]

Howdy!

I think your Monster Hunter AU is really cool and I wanted to know if you’d be cool if I tried to write something in the universe? (Specifically about Prowl haha, I saw him once and thought 👀 “man i wonder if tarantulas was in this au how spooky he’d be given he’s spooky enough in canon”)

Would also love to know your thoughts/if you had any of what Prowl could be up to, I know the au is Lost Light focused so I totally get it if you don’t have any/etc.

Hope you have a good day! Love your art!

Hoooo boy okay okay. Prowl.

He's a Golem created by Orion.

In mythology, Golems are essentially living statues made of clay mixed with blood and animated by magic. They are stupid and exist for primitive manual labor.

In my universe, a Golem is basically the same thing, but made of metal.

Orion assembled his golem from empty armor, parts stolen from the medbay, and his own energon. And then he went and got a Wisdom artifact and put it in the golem's head, because the rules strictly forbid giving golems internal organs like sparks or processors.

As a result, the golem was very light because it was essentially empty inside, so even when it moved it did so very quietly for a mech its size. Orion had been startled the first fifteen times the golem would appear completely silent beside him. On the sixteenth time, he called the golem Prowl.

Prowl is basically not a real mech. He has no spark, he has no need to eat or sleep. His only and primary task is to serve Orion. Thanks to the artifact, he is freakishly intelligent, not only compared to normal golems, but to normal mechs as well.

Orion keeps his origin a secret from everyone except Ratchet and Shockwave (because Shockwave was the one who taught him how to create golems), so all the mechs in the Order are convinced that Prowl is just Orion's very tedious assistant, not...you know...a walking puppet who has incredible intellectual abilities, but almost no emotions or conscience:)

[medicalunprofessional]

never change, man !

[airborneinfantry]

It looks like Hawaii. - ...No, it doesn't.

Eugene Sledge & Bill Leyden in THE PACIFIC (2010)

[sysig]

Got your number (Patreon)

[teyrnacousland]

Thinking about Illario again. Illario has been through a lot. Just as much as Lucanis. He lost his parents at a young age, as well as aunts, uncles, maybe even a sibling. He was raised just as isolated and friendless, and was tortured and neglected as much as Lucanis. Illario is very familiar with grief and loneliness.

And Illario knows Lucanis is going to die soon. They both might, they're Crows, after all, but Lucanis has just... accepted it. He seems to almost want it. He refuses to take any step to prevent or delay that fate. He will never decline dangerous jobs, will never quit, and he will, however reluctantly, accept a position that they both know will place a huge target on his back.

And Illario has to live every day knowing that one of his only two remaining family members, and the only person who actually cares about and loves him, the only person Illario really even likes let alone loves, is going to die. Any day now. He has to think about it on every job they do, every day they continue to be who they are; the only surviving Dellamorte heirs. He has to think about all the loss and grief he's been through, and know that the worst is yet to come. Not that he didn't love his parents, but he was young, and it was so long ago. Losing Lucanis, who he loves, who he's known and loved for like 30 years, will be the worst thing he's ever had to experience and he has to know it.

Have you ever known you're about to lose somebody close to you? Have you ever had to wake up every day with the thought that this could be their last haunting your every waking hour? Have you ever found yourself wishing, even if only in the deepest farthest back part of your thoughts, that they would just die already because you can't take another day of worrying and waiting? I have. Anticipatory grief is hell.

And I think that's where Illario is at with Lucanis. Every day is like that, watching Lucanis tightrope along the edge of death and just waiting for the worst day of his life. Illario doesn't want Lucanis dead, not really. (Even if the thought "I'd be First Talon if you weren't here" has crossed his mind.) He loves Lucanis. But Lucanis is going to die anyways, so he might as well just get it over with. Lucanis himself said his calling is death, and Illario's is First Talon. You could, in a twisted way, argue that this is what Lucanis would have wanted.

Illario has faced loss before and come out the other side, so once Lucanis is gone it'll hurt, but he'll be able to start moving on. And Illario will get what he's always wanted: he'll have proven he's the better Crow, he'll be the favourite (by default), and he'll be First Talon, like he wanted. So he'll be fine. Everything will be fine.

[cherruni]

im going insane. anyways here are the boys and a mengyao from @neonghostcat’s fic ! once again i am asking you to read it 🫶

[lovesickeros]

☆ de fontaine

{☆} characters furina {☆} notes cult au, imposter au, drabble, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings angst, suicidal thoughts, hurt / no comfort {☆} word count 1.4k

This wasn't fair. This wasn't fair. This wasn't fair!

She thought, for one moment, she could put the mask down and breathe – for one moment of daydreaming, she thought she could just be Furina. She thought she would finally get to live the live she should've had in the first place, the life she threw away to play God to an audience who saw her as nothing but a circus animal, dancing to their whims. Furina just wanted to be selfish for one brief and fleeting moment..and it was gone before she could even grasp it in her hand. A comet soaring past far out of her reach.

She can barely keep her hands from violently shaking as she looks down at them – broken and bloody and more a corpse then a person – and she feels so numb she can't even feel the rain pelting against her back. None of this is fair, she wants to scream, why is it always me? But her voice is silent beneath the torrent of rain. She wonders if the ocean would take her if she sank into it's depths – just for a moment, she wonders how it would feel to finally be able to sleep at ease.

Furina is tired.

But Furina is nothing if not useful, isn't she?

So she forces her feet to move, dragging against the stone beneath her heels, and drags their bloodied body into the nearest empty building, letting the rain do the work of washing away the smeared blood following her path. The smell makes her feel sick, the feeling of it sticking to her hands and gloves makes her lightheaded, but she persists. Because Furina is useful, because Furina won't let them die out in the rain, because Furina won't stand by and just let them rot on the streets like some..pest.

Furina wants to go home. She wants to sleep and she isn't she if she wants to wake up, this time. But she keeps going anyway.

Because it's all she's ever done, and the habit sticks.

An Archon she may not be, not anymore, but the expectations of five hundred years still linger like eyes on the inside of her skull. They watch her, pry and prod at her thoughts, mocking laughter and judging eyes following her as she forces herself to dance to the song they weave with glee. Furina never stepped off that stage – she's still there, she thinks, watching the crowd stare at her in disdain as the curtain call looms above her like a guillotine. She still hears Neuvillette deliver her damnation and salvation with a trembling voice, still feels her hair stand on end when electro crackled like the crack of the whip, Clorinde's blade aimed at her like a loaded gun.

She's trapped on that stage and she never left, not really.

She hates it. She thinks she hates them, but it's not their fault. They didn't ask for this, didn't ask for everyone to turn against them, didn't ask for her to save them. Neither did she..yet here they are, she thinks.

She tries to tell herself she's in control this time, though. She can stop performing her part in this horrible, bloody play any time she wants. It makes her feel better, just for a little while, if she convinces herself she's still Furina, painfully human.

And Furina has always been good at lying.

It's the believing that's the hard part.

There isn't time for her to wallow in her own self pity, though. They're still bleeding out onto the dusty, creaky floorboards of some random, broken down house and she's just standing there as the blood stains the wood. She can fix it – she's good at fixing things. She's done nothing but fix things – try to, anyway – for five hundred years. She can fix a little wound, how hard could it be? Her hands are clenched so tight they ache as she kneels down, wincing at the creak of the floorboards beneath her heels– she hesitates just long enough to wonder if she's making a mistake before she peels away just enough of the outer layer of their clothes to see the deep, bloody gash across their chest. She tries not to think about it – it's deep, too deep, and she feels dizzy just looking at it, but she's handled worse, right?

Furina can fix it. That's what she's good at.

She doesn't feel so confident when she tries to wrack her brain for..something. Five hundred years, and a little wound stumps her? No, she had to have learned something, right? She's decidedly not trying to buy time because she's panicking, parsing through hundreds of years of memories like flipping through a book. Furina isn't made for this, not really – she's running on nothing but adrenaline and she's really not sure what she's doing, but she's trying. And just like before, it won't be enough, will it?

She'll fall short again – she'll be too late to fix it before she's alone again.

Furina was an Archon..used to be. What use would she have for that sort of knowledge? Which makes her predicament all the more harrowing and bleak. What was she supposed to do?

Furina had heard it first hand, that vitriol in Neuvillette's voice. She isn't sure she's ever heard him that..angry before. She's not sure he would listen to her if she tried, either. And that scares her more then anything. All of Fontaine was up in arms about this..imposter, yet here she was, staring down at them bleeding out in front of her, and she was trying to save them.

Why? Why is she throwing away her only chance at normalcy for a fraud? Why didn't she just turn them in?

They were dying – that should've been a good thing, shouldn't it? So why didn't it feel like it?

"Why you?" Her voice breaks as she speaks in harsh tones, grabbing the front of their shirt in trembling, bloodied hands. "Why now?" She wants to scream, to demand answers they can't give, to claw back the reprieve she was promised after five hundred years of agony..and all she can do is sob into their chest, pleading for an answer that will not come. "Why me?"

Silence is their answer, and it hangs heavy on her trembling shoulders as she cries.

Of course they don't, she thinks bitterly, no one has ever answered her pleas spoken in hushed sobs. Not her other self and certainly not them.

Furina has always been alone. Furina will always be alone.

Because Furina never left that stage, never left that moment when she looked at herself in the mirror and took up a mantle too heavy for her to bear. She always finds her way back eventually. There's no one on the other side anymore – she stands alone on a stage, waiting for an inevitable end she isn't sure will come.

"Please," She pleads through tears and choked sobs, clinging to them like they are all that keeps her from sinking. "Please don't leave me, too." The words burn on her tongue – how pathetic is she that she craves companionship from the bloodied body of the imposter? Perhaps she's truly lost her mind after all these years..perhaps she's finally gone mad. She must have.

But their presence is like the first feeling of gentle warmth upon her skin as the sun crests the horizon, like the gentle lap of tides along her heels, the sway of branches and leaves as the wind blows through them like an instrument all it's own. They are the soothing sound of rain against the window as she watches the dreary skies in fond longing, the first bloom of spring as color blooms upon the landscape like paint had been spilled across the hills and valleys.

They are like the faint spark she carefully nurtures and stokes, so fragile even the smallest wind could blow it out like a candle. She cradles it within her palms, pleads with whoever will listen – prays that someone finally listens, because if not for her, then for them.

She's failed to protect too much already, let too many people with so much trust in her fall between the cracks of her fingers like grains of sand. She won't let them go – she can't.

If nothing else, if she couldn't be saved when she begged for salvation from that five hundred year long agony, even if she never got that chance..

Furina will make sure they do.

[bread-is-my-life]

Winter stainmight, winter stainmight! ❄️

Plus a comic

A silly headcanon of mine that is 100% canon/j is that Stain always has some spare pair of gloves with him ONLY because Toshi always forgets his 😭 I think after a while it will just become an ordinary thing for them. Just a small moment of Stain caring for Toshi hehehfd :3

[see-arcane]

Faustus: "I've simply never been given a Sign that there are everlasting consequences for this decision"

Mephistopheles:

Mephistopheles, banging pots and pans together the second he appears: "I am a demon fresh out of Hell, and while all existence outside of Heaven is metaphorical Hell, I cannot express clearly or loudly enough that I am from the real literal not shitting you Actual Inferno and that if you make this soul-selling deal for magic party tricks you will regret it immensely!"

Faustus: "Mannn you're chatty for a figment of my imagination. Anyway, let's get that blood document signed, I want to do sorceries for fun and profit via the powers of Hell. Which is not real :)"

Mephistopheles, aside to Satan: "Hey I know it's ahead of schedule but can I conjure just. A fuckton of aspirin? Yes right now."

[daily-mafuemu-vitamins]

Today's MafuEmu Vitamin is...🥁

Mafuyu's The Taste of Authentic Takoyaki 3-star and Emu's Sweet, Sweet Memories 3-star!

snacktime :3 ❄️🍬

[cupcakewebkinz]

Dancin' in the kitchen~

☕︎ I really wanted to write some Fruitcake fluff after making Sprout cry so here you go gang lmao-

Cosmo and Sprout are left alone in Gardenview's kitchen, gay shenanigans ensure, a kiss happens and lots of fluff ☕︎

✿ Caretaker Shanon au is mine! This is a prequel to the canon events in the au~ ✿

❀ @soupiestzilla you wanted more Sprout, get more Sprout, get more fluffy silly goofy strawberry man before we make him suffer from glitter more lol ❀

❀•°•═════ஓ๑♡๑ஓ═════•°•❀

Cosmo hummed softly as he walked in the kitchen, flicking on the lights as he rubbed an eye, having just woken up to get the prep started for the lunch rush that day. He soon was surprised by another toon being in there, a strawberry inspired one, who had walked in at the same time he did but through the other entrance.

"Good morning Cosmo~!" The other cheered, waving at him.

"Good morning Sprout~!" He cheered right back, hoping he didn't notice his cheeks now had a soft pink hue to them. The berry didn't seem to care as he went right to work, getting everything they'd need out to start getting the food all made. Cosmo soon joined him, skipping right over and crawling onto the counter, grabbing the things just out of Sprout's reach, despite the worried look the berry had now.

"You really need to be careful, you're going to get hurt one day." Sprout scolded softly, making the chocolate swiss roll laugh as he turned to look at him.

"I'm fine~ I've been doing this since I was a tiny toon." Cosmo reassured, passing the last mixer down to the strawberry, who gently took it and carried it off to the island with a sigh.

"Alright, but promise me, you'll keep being careful. Delilah knows what'll happen if you get hurt pulling off that stunt." Sprout huffed, though they both knew what would've happened. Sprout would've cried, patched him up, then be carrying him the rest of the day to make sure nobody else hurt him. Neither said that though, as they just quietly started getting the ingredients out for everything, though the fun started with an accident.

Cosmo slid on his socks and stopped right beside Sprout, shocking them both.

"I-I didn't mean to slip-"

"Dude that was so cool, do it again!"

Cosmo blinked at that response, having not expected it from the most cautious, careful toon in all of the center. Though when he noticed that look in his eyes, the sheer childish wonder, the excitement of something new, he couldn't help but smile and nod, giggling as he ran off. He then slid right back, falling right into Sprout's arms, the two laughing at their dumb selves.

"We're idiots!" Cosmo shrieked out in his fit of laughter, having spooked himself just a little bit when he nearly fell over. Sprout just picked him right up, laughing with him, hysterical.

"We definitely are! We absolutely are idiots!" He agreed loudly, pulling Cosmo closer to himself as they both laughed at their stupid shenanigans, neither realizing how close they were or how red their faces had gotten until they had settled down. As once they had stopped laughing, they were staring right at each other, faces just inches apart, their eyes both being full of love and curiousity. Both were hesitant to move, knowing very well that they weren't supposed to feel this way for each other, knowing they were just supposed to be close friends- but they weren't. Sprout leaned in and put his forehead against Cosmo's, Cosmo putting a hand on his cheek in return, the two closing their eyes as their hearts raced. This was as close as they've ever been allowed to be to each other, not for just their handler's sake- but their own. Sprout leaned in a little more, and soon they were softly kissing, forgetting the world around them as they stayed close to each other. They felt oddly at peace with the idea of them not just being friends anymore, of them being something more, though they knew they shouldn't be talking about that in the kitchen of all places. The kiss lasted a minute- but a minute felt too short, they were both saddened when Sprout moved away, when the world unfortunately had to exist again.

"I... Think we should... Talk about what just happened in my room after hours, today." Sprout whispered once they both processed what genuinely just happened, getting a nod and a giggle in reply as Cosmo reached up, just to flick one of Sprout's leaves off his forehead. Sprout stuck his tongue out at him and blew a raspberry in reply, making Cosmo laugh a bit more.

"Okay fine I'll stop messing with your hair, I get it!" Cosmo squealed as he laughed, and Sprout soon snorted and was giggling with him.

"Dude we're such idiots, we have so much to make yet we're here goofing off and being gay." Sprout quietly stated as he put his chubby best friend down, the two looking at each other once more before Cosmo looked at the radio.

"Maybe we should actually play some music and get to work before Sam kills us both..." He suggested, and Sprout just nodded, patting Cosmo right on the head as he walked past him, going right to the radio and turning it on. The two then quietly and quickly went to work, though it wasn't long before Cosmo started abusing his sock powers and was sliding around again to get around faster, which of course made Sprout watch him anxiously while giggling at just how adorable he was. The two soon found themselves dancing along to the stupid old fashioned music they were forced to listen to too, sliding on their socks, switching places without a care in the world as they danced and laughed and enjoyed life. Yeah sure they sucked at dancing, but who cares. They had socks, tile floors, goofy energy and were getting work done. The two were laughing like crazy by the time their work was done, both having watched the other's doofus chaos while they worked together, and were found sitting side by side on a bench just laughing in their now messy pajamas with the food all prepped on the counters when Sam finally got there. They looked at the two disasters of toons, then at the full kitchen of food, then just smiled.

"I told them you two had it covered... They didn't believe in you. Hmph. Good job boys, but did you remember th-" Sam was saying until the oven caught on fire. The two immediately shut up and stared, while Sam sighed and facepalmed before they went and grabbed the fire extinguisher.

"YOU DIMWITS!"

"SORRY MX. SAM-" the two yelled in unison, then looked at each other, then laughed. Sam sighed after the fire was out, then laughed a little themselves.

"You two are too adorable to stay mad at, stop being so darn cute so I can be mad." Sam teased the two as they walked over and patted their heads, obviously just grateful they both were okay. In better moods than usual too, but okay regardless. It didn't matter that they started staring off at the other that day or the fact that Sprout got suddenly really protective of Cosmo that morning- they were safe, they were happy, and the kitchen didn't burn down. That's what mattered. That's what made it all okay.

[taemcains]

real sufferers would get him

[love-bites-and-poetry-burns]

one day im gonna compile the 10 years worth of evidence into one tumblr master-post and the gaylor bible will be written in stone